Quarter Past Seven
by seeyouontheice
Summary: Jac and Elliot arrive early for work and have a chat in their office one morning.


It was quarter past seven in the morning and she was hiding in her - well hers and Elliot's - office well out of sight of anyone and everyone. It was her first day at work since Jonny had brutally put her on the spot and embarrassed the hell out of her when he'd proudly announced that in nine – six – months there would be a squirming infant belonging to him and to her. She'd snuck into the building through the back stairs, using the less used and deserted routes Jac had ended up on Darwin with no one the wiser. Dashing into the locker room and shoving on her scrubs in record speeds, the consultant had thrown her belongings into her locker before seeking refuge in the office. Hopefully, no one would've had time to see her.

It just felt weird now that everyone knew, that's all. Like she still had to keep it a secret, and yet she knew there was no need now. It was as if having people stick their noses in on her business would take away how ... personal it all was; like it'd take all the meaning out of it for her. Jac wasn't even sure she could describe how she felt – her emotions were all tangled up with hormones and she'd not yet decided to decode them. Although she was sort of glad it was official now, the thought of having to hide it any longer was enough to convince Jac of the good side, it didn't comfort her to know that all over the hospital people would be saying "have you heard? The ice-queen Naylor is up the duff! By that Scottish nurse too!" "Ah poor kid … Naylor as a mum!"

Gossip never sat well with Jac because she disliked people making up and adding and embellishing a story until there was no truth left in it. Like Chinese whispers, only with someone's reputation at stake rather than an innocent word or phrase. She'd learnt to ignore it over the years, but knowing that the fortunes of the foetus was up for discussion made Jac feel all the more uneasy about it all. She was well aware of what might be said; she'd often thought as much herself over the past twelve weeks. It was small comfort to know that, should she speak to him about it, Jonny would instantly put her right and tell her she was thinking nonsense.

The door opened and Jac blinked as Elliot backed into the office with an arm full of files, his briefcase and a box of doughnuts. Well at least now he knew who'd been stealing them. "You haven't been here all night I hope?" Jac sighed, _here it comes_ she thought, _the 'no more night shifts speech followed swiftly by the 'make sure you're looking after yourself' one._ Elliot decided that she looked far too alert to have been sat at her desk for more than ten or fifteen minutes or so and left it be. "I love getting in early – lets you prepare for the day ahead and sort things before things get manic," he looked at Jac, who was staring at her emails without reading them.

"It's quiet and calm," she shrugged as the professor sat down at his desk and added to the mess upon it. Jac was almost certain that there was an iPad and at least two pagers and an old orange under all the mess somewhere, along with the half drawn up list of 'personal relationships on the ward' that had been wanted last Christmas.

"I quite agree ... doughnut?" Jac glanced at him and then from the box to the closed door. "I'll just leave them here," he said, smiling at her reaction.

Since neither of them was due into work until at least nine, they sat in silence content in spending time in the office before it dawned upon the staff that they might actually already be in. Deleting the email and closing the window down, Jac sighed and turned away from the computer rubbing the back of her neck where the muscles had knotted from sleeping funny. Glancing over at Elliot she found he was already buried under bits of paper and old sandwich wrappers and found she was smiling slightly. He turned in his chair and pulled out one of the many thick and heavy medical texts from the shelves behind him and was pouring over it like a med student cramming for an exam that morning.

The allure of the doughnuts was too much for Jac. Taking the lazy approach, she wheeled her chair and her over to the box and selected the right one. She knew that Elliot had stopped to watch her with an amused smile and she realised she didn't care too much. "Are you ever gonna clean this mess up?" she asked, gesturing with the doughnut at his desk and the surrounding area.

"Jac this isn't mess: this is organised chaos. I know exactly where everything is." Jac raised a sceptical eyebrow. "It's for my research ... well Tara's research actually."

She sat back in her chair and placed her feet upon the printer, "What research?"

"Her study on mortality in the young ... never quite finished it and I thought I'd ..."

"Help her finish it?"

"Yes ... I suppose that's how one would phrase it. I mean it's really interesting stuff – here," he handed Jac a folder, the kind the F1 had used to bind all her work, as he searched for something on his desk. Finishing the doughnut in one mouthful, Jac took the research and began to flick through it mildly interested.

"Patient x ... that's her right? She put herself into it?" Jac questioned a good fifteen minutes later after she'd actually read it all.

"Yes ... I do believe she did."

"Well," Jac handed back the file, "I can see why you want to finish it and not let it go to waste." Elliot nodded absently. "Didn't Oliver try to palm it off as his own for his CT2?"

"I'd heard that was so."

"He came sneaking in here before he left ... asked me what I was doing here and why I was eating."

Elliot looked across at her, "and what did you say?"

Jac shrugged, "he told me to look after you." She watched as the heart surgeon let that sink in and smiled, "I promised I would."

"You did?"

"Well who else is there?" Jac shrugged it off, "oh and I told him too."

"Told him what?"

"That I'm ... y'know."

Elliot cottoned on, "and how did he take it? Shock I'd imagine."

"Yeah – I told him it was his. No, he was surprised but ... well pleased I guess." Jac shrugged again.

"You don't sound too certain."

"Why would anyone be pleased that I'm pregnant? They'll all be horrified surely."

"Why would you think that?" Elliot sounded startled.

"It's me: Jac Naylor the Bitch. The one everybody hates and who hates everybody."

"But that's not true Jac – and you know it. And you'll be surprised at how many positive reactions you'll receive from this."

"Jonny'll receive." Jac corrected, "Until they learn it's me and then they'll feel sorry for him."

Elliot sighed, "That's not true and you know it. In fact I'm not having his conversation anymore until you realise that people do care and do like you Jac. That actually, we do know there is a real you and we'd all like to meet her."

Knowing Elliot wasn't going to back down; Jac retreated behind her own desk and reasoned he was probably right. She'd changed so much during her time here – the debarkle with Joseph and her whole wanting promotion had faded, been wiped clean, when he left and she got the consultancy on Darwin – albeit by default. It was as if she'd ... what? Finally been taken seriously and people had finally started to like her and respect her and realise she wasn't always out for herself? Probably; yeah she was a bitch at times and she was hard on her juniors but those juniors usually ended up top of their year though. She was honest – Jac had learnt that lying was never really the answer – to the point where she'd offended patients with the truth.

No, why didn't she look at it a different way; who would she consider a friend and who would consider her a friend in return? The immediate name was Sacha. Then strangely followed by Elliot and Michael; Jac reasoned that the likes of Oliver had also been in that category along with Luc – when he wasn't stuck in his lab playing Frankenstein – and Ric maybe? Serena because Jac had gone to her with that scan months back … Malick she decided as a friend even though they'd had little contact – his mix up with the secret Santa last Christmas had annoyed her but his support in her war against Imelda Cousins was enough for Jac to decide friend – Hanssen? Well after what happened in Sweden yes, but she should probably stick with 'close colleague' because he was her boss. Greg had been a friend – when he wasn't busy moping after Sahira, who Jac put in the same category as Hanssen – admitting she liked Sahira Shah did not appeal to Jac.

And then there was Jonny and Mo. Well after everything Jac grudgingly admitted she liked Mo. Occasionally … sometimes … if the situation demanded it. Or she was in a good mood. So that just left Jonny ... calling Jonny her friend didn't seem quite enough somehow – like it was an insult to what he meant to her and how much he meant. Jonny infuriated her. He knew exactly which buttons to press to tick her off and which ones would cause her to yell at him. He knew her ... too well? No – he didn't know her past ... but he probably suspected. He was smart, and loyal when it came to the – she'd have to say the word some time – baby. He knew how to make her smile and how to make her laugh when she didn't want to. He knew she was afraid, he just didn't know what of. He knew how she had her tea and that she didn't like fizzy drinks that much. He knew ... he knew her. And yet _she_ couldn't figure him out. She knew how to make him smile, how to make him laugh and how he liked to have a hot chocolate before bed on a Sunday before work. She knew how to piss him off and what annoyed him. She knew how to make him want more and to keep him interested. She knew him. But she didn't understand him, or why she knew him so well after spending so little time together.

"Has it really been a year?"

"Sorry what?" blinking, she looked round; Jac hadn't realised she spoke aloud.

"Since I met Jonny – has it really only been a year?"

Elliot checked the calendar, "a month or two more than a year, but yes. It has ... why?"

Jac struggled, "it seems like yesterday ... and like forever all at once."

Elliot smiled at her lost in thought, he chose to listen though he knew what direction her thoughts would take her, "How so?"

"Like ... I know him – and he knows me – but at the same time, I don't know him. I don't know him at all. We've spoken but never talked."

"All the years I was married, I never once knew everything about Gina. She always found a way to surprise me."

Jac was only half listening to him, "I don't understand him," she admitted. "How he can be so ... so annoying all the time and yet how come I don't want him to stop?"

"We can never fully understand anyone Jac, not even ourselves."

"I don't get why or how I can know him and yet, not know him at the same time."

Elliot put down his text book, "explain?"

"I know the little things ... how he has his tea and how to piss him off or make him laugh. I know all that but I don't know the other stuff; the important stuff."

"The past you mean," Elliot thought about it. "The past isn't really all that important Jac. It's now that matters, you can't change his past any more than he can change yours. It's the little things that are important."

"I don't ... I don't understand how he makes me feel." Jac frowned, "no, I don't know how I feel ... about him," she looked over to Elliot as if suddenly remembering he was there.

"You like him?" Elliot quickly explained what he meant, "as in you get along and you don't want to kill him whenever you see him."

Jac smiled slightly, "no I don't want him dead ... don't think I'd cope if he were."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know. Because then I'd have to do this without him?"

"Is that just it though?" Elliot watched the redhead; he knew full well what she felt for Jonny and how the nurse felt for her … he just had to guide her there.

"I ... when I came back – from Japan – I ... we made up and I, I told him I loved him."

"Did you mean it?" Elliot asked softly.

"Yes. But ..."

"But?" he encouraged.

"He never said it back."

The surgeon paused, "doesn't mean he doesn't though."

"I know that," she whispered softly, "I just …"

"Just what … wish you knew how he feels?"

"Maybe," the redhead shrugged staring blankly at her screen.

"I think you already know how you feel about him – and how he feels about you. You're just afraid things might go wrong between you … again." Elliot felt he had little choice but to add the 'again' on the end of his sentence.

"I don't want things to go wrong Elliot. I'm tired of things going wrong … tired of apologising for messing up and tired of trying to make something work when it won't." Jac sighed shaking her head, "I'm tired of all this; not knowing what to do or how to feel or what to think. I'm tired of trying to prove that I can be the person he wants me to be …"

Elliot watched her, "I always got the impression that he's never asked you to be anyone other than yourself … and I don't think he'd want you to be anyone else Jac. Somehow he's managed to see past this ice cold exterior you present – quicker than anyone I know – and seen the person you are on the inside … he loves you for who you are."

"He loves me?" she questioned softly, sounding very much like a teenager experiencing love for the first time.

"Certainly seems that way to me," Jac glanced at the professor and then switched her gaze to the wall opposite her.

"What if you're wrong?" Jac dared to ask.

"I don't think I am."

"But what if you are?"

"Wouldn't you rather know for sure, one way or another? Carrying on as you are, not knowing for sure how he feels about you … wouldn't you rather know?" Jac heard the old heart surgeon sigh, "What are you afraid of?"

It was a valid question; _what am I afraid of?_ But because she'd never thought about it before now, she had no immediate answer other than _everything_. She was afraid of getting hurt and of being left behind – abandoned. She was scared that something was now going to go wrong and that Jonny would blame her. She was afraid that if she told him about her past that he wouldn't understand, that he'd turn away from her. She was scared he was only in this for the ... the baby. She was afraid, so afraid, that someone would see how frightened she was and that someone would realise how much a lie it all was.

A lie to protect herself from the harsh cold cruel world they inhabited so that she could retain and love some form of a life. A lie that portrayed her as the bad guy; that portrayed her as the one behind every plot. The person who wanted everything … who would sacrifice everything and anything to get what she wanted. A lie that said she didn't care and didn't feel. A lie that told the world she was fine when in reality she was close to breaking inside. Only now the lie wasn't enough. People were seeing through it ... people were they … _understood _her. Understanding something they could never understand. People were seeing the real her and it scared her.

"I can't explain it ... it put it into words."

"Try."

"I ... I don't know how to," she said eventually.

Elliot watched her with something like fondness in his eyes. He'd never admit it, especially not to Jac because he knew Jac would deny it, but over the years he'd come to see Jac Naylor as a kind of surrogate daughter – his lost child almost. One he felt duty bound to look out for and to be responsible for. He wanted only the best for Jac and so pushed her to make the right choices. He tested her and made her fight for what she believed in. He questioned her more than was needed because he wanted to know her reasons for doing something. Wanted her to realise that she was rarely – if ever – out for herself anymore. That the core of all her decisions was that she wanted what was best for her patient. She got too involved with every case and going down dangerous and risky roads was her way of showing that involvement.

He was proud of her; of the woman she'd become. He remembered the first time he'd met her and how much Ric had regretted hiring her at first. _"Which incompetent is responsible for the signs round here?"_ her wit and sarcasm hasn't faded, nor had her sharpness ... but she was confident now, she had the position she'd wanted and the respect she was due. After living most of her childhood in the shadows, as the unwanted one and the one often forgotten, Elliot could understand why she needed to be heard.

"You're afraid of being ignored and forgotten?"

Jac's eyes flickered to him and he detected both grateful ness and alarm that he'd gotten to the core of the issue so easily. "When you put it that way ..."

"How else could one put it?"

"I don't want to be hurt any more than I already have been."

"That's understandable."

"And I hate people saying they understand! Half the time – no all the time – they don't. They couldn't possibly understand any of what I've been through!"

Elliot remained silent for a moment or two, letting Jac's outburst settle. "If you talked to people, you would make them understand."

"I don't want to be understood. If I'm understood then I'll get sympathy and I'll be treated as if I'm about to break – like I'm weak and need special treatment."

"You don't want to be treated any differently than the next person?"

"Why should I be? I'm no better or worse am I? Why should any one person be above another?"

"And yet you fought tooth and nail for the consultancy."

"How else was I going to get heard? In this industry you have to _make _yourself heard if you want to make a difference. It's doubly hard for women and ten times harder for me."

"Oh?"

"How many kids from care do you hear about becoming doctors Elliot? The moment people know you're from that background you get treated like you're less than them."

"You've proved the odds wrong though Jac; made something of yourself despite having nothing to encourage you to. What more can you want?"

It came out as a whisper, and Elliot wasn't entirely sure he'd heard it right, "I want Jonny." She stared at the blank screen wondering what the time was and not really that bothered either.

"There's nothing to say he doesn't want you ... talk to him."

"He doesn't listen."

"I'm sure he will – if you tried hard enough."

"I've already told you … I'm tired of trying."

"I know Jac … I know you are. But you need to sort this – to settle it once and for all otherwise … well will you ever find peace?" the conversation ceased at that point, both consultants returned to their own worlds as they got on with whatever tasks they felt needed doing before they were dragged – or forced – onto the ward. Elliot continued with the research while Jac cleared her inbox and typed up some patient notes she'd neglected to do before she'd gone home.

"When's your next date then?" Jac asked a while later. At Elliot's look she smirked, "with Sharon. How are things going?"

"Oh erm … well …"

"You mean you had the date – had a good time – and left it at that?" Jac shook her head in disbelief at him. "You really have forgotten all about women haven't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"When was the last time you spoke to her?"

Elliot thought about it, "when Oliver left – we spoke about him and I haven't seen much of her since."

"You're joking right?" Elliot frowned and Jac threw her head back, "she will be waiting for you to make the next move dipstick!"

"Oh."

"Oh indeed."

"I … I'm so out of practise though Jac – I don't know what to suggest."

"Has she said anything to you – what did you talk about? Over dinner because I assume you listened to the rules and kept silent during the opera."

"What do you mean?"

Jac groaned this was harder than last time – where was Jonny when she needed him? "What does she like? Did you talk about interests?"

"Erm … she likes going to the theatre. And watching musicals, which is interesting since Sahira liked musicals too."

"There you are then; book up a couple of fairly expensive seats at one of the Westend shows in London; job done."

"I don't know," Elliot muttered.

"Look it's your choice but if you like her you'd best start making an effort otherwise she'll lose interest in you and move on to someone else who _does_ know how to interact with women. I can always book you another lesson with Jonny if you want?"

"No thank you; I think I'm a bit old for those kinds of tricks."

"Ah prefer to do things old school do you?"

"You see all these men using chat up lines and acting like they're all that. Whatever happened to manners may I ask? And simple gestures like opening a door or holding a chair? But modern women don't like that kind of thing do they? They don't want a gentleman do they?"

"It works for Jonny."

"What does?"

"The whole opening doors thing – Joseph too. When all else fails Elliot, use the manners … besides American women love a good old-fashioned English gentleman."

"They do?"

Jac smiled at him, he seemed to have forgotten that he had a doughnut halfway to his mouth. "Yeah, they do. Just … don't let her slip away Elliot okay?"

They drifted back into their own worlds as the clock ticked nearer and near to nine. After a while Elliot reached for another doughnut before realising it was the last one and offering it to Jac. She shook her head and then took it anyway. "How's things going then?" he asked, "with the pregnancy."

Jac shrugged, "alright I s'pose."

"Nervous?"

"Shit scared," Jac admitted, "I mean … what if I do it all wrong?"

"You won't."

"And you're sure about that?"

Elliot looked at Jac over his glasses, aware that she needed a truthful and honest answer, "Yes. I am sure of it."

Jac's response was interrupted by a knock at the door; Jonny poked his head round the door, "Yup they're both here! Sorry but we've got three RTA's enroute."

"ETA?" Jac asked.

"Ten minutes tops," he looked at the pair of them, "and Mo's off sick."

"Ah … okay let's start bumping electives." Elliot heaved himself out of his chair while Jac finished the last of the doughnut. Glancing at the clock she groaned; it wasn't even half past eight yet.

In some sense the early morning conversation between Jac and Elliot had been pointless … and yet in others it had been hugely critical. Anyone looking in would've dismissed it because they never agreed on any action – never said that they would do something and report back kind of thing. But both knew that it had been needed, that things had been left unsaid for too long and that they needed to _do _something. In a strange sense the just talking and no agreeing worked better than the talking and agreeing; the _doing_ was their own choice and was done in their own time … and frankly, results were better than if there had been a plan, a strategy.


End file.
